Come Lie With Me Read online

  She writhed inwardly with embarrassment. She’d managed for years to control herself, to keep herself from wallowing in the slimy pool of the past. So she hadn’t been comfortable with men; what of it? A lot of women managed very well without men. When she thought of the way she’d clung to him, weeping and moaning, she wanted to die of shame. Her solitary nature hated the thought of displaying so much of herself to anyone, even the man who had taken up her days and nights for months.

  Willpower had a lot to say for itself; it steadied her nerves, gave her the courage to shrug her shoulders and step into the shower as if there was nothing unusual about that morning. She dressed as she normally did, then went straight to the gym, where she knew she’d find Blake. There was no point in putting off their meeting, because time wouldn’t make it any easier. It was best to face him and get it over with.

  When she opened the door he glanced at her but didn’t say anything; he was lying on his stomach, lifting weights with his legs, and he was counting. He was totally engrossed in the demands he was making of his body. With a slow but steady rhythm he lifted each leg in turn.

  “How long have you been doing that?” Dione asked sternly, forgetting her discomfort as her professional concern surfaced.

  “Half…an…hour,” he grated.

  “That’s enough. Stop right now,” she ordered. “You’re overdoing it; no wonder your legs give you fits! What are you trying to do, punish your legs for the years they didn’t work?”

  He relaxed with a groan. “I’m trying to get away from the walker,” he said irritably. “I want to walk alone, without leaning on anything.”

  “If you tear a muscle you’re going to be leaning on something for a lot longer than necessary,” she snapped back. “I’ve watched you push yourself past the bounds of common sense, but no more. I’m a therapist, not a spectator. If you’re not going to follow my instructions, then there’s no use in my staying here any longer.”

  His head jerked around, and his eyes darkened to a stormy color. “Are you telling me that you’re leaving?”

  “That’s up to you,” she returned stonily. “If you’ll do as you’re told and follow your training program, I’ll stay. If you’re going to ignore everything I say and do what you want, there’s no point in my wasting my time here.”

  He flushed darkly, and she realized that he still wasn’t used to giving in to anyone. For a moment she expected him to tell her to pack her bags, and she pulled herself up, braced for the words that would end her time with him. Then he clenched his jaw and snapped, “All right, lady, you’re the boss. What’s the matter with you today? You’re as touchy as a rattler.”

  Absurd relief washed over her, at both her reprieve from exile and the familiar, comforting ill-temper apparent in his words. She could handle that; but she knew beyond a doubt that she wouldn’t have been able to handle the situation if he’d made any reference to the intimacy of the night, if he’d tried to kiss her and act like a lover.

  She was so determined to regain the therapist-patient relationship that during the day she resisted his teasing and efforts to joke with her, turning a cold face to his laughing eyes. By the time they had finished they were snarling at each other like two stray dogs. Dione, having eaten nothing all day, was so hungry that she was almost sick, and that only added to the hostility she felt.

  Her body was rebelling against her misuse of it when it was finally time for dinner. On wobbly legs she made her way down the stairs, her head whirling in a nauseating manner that made her cling to the banisters. She was so preoccupied with the task of getting down the stairs in one piece that she didn’t hear Blake behind her, didn’t feel his searing blue gaze on her back.

  She made it to the dining room and fell into her chair with relief at not having sprawled on the floor. After a moment Blake made his way past her and went into the kitchen; she was too sick to wonder at that, even though it was the first time she’d seen him enter the kitchen in the months she’d been living there.

  Alberta came out promptly with a steaming bowl of soup, which she placed before Dione. “Eat that right now,” she ordered in her gruff, no-nonsense voice.

  Slowly Dione began to eat, not trusting her queasy stomach. As she ate, though, she began to feel better as her stomach settled; by the time she’d finished the soup the trembling in her body was subsiding and she wasn’t as dizzy. She looked up to find Blake seated across from her, silently watching her eat. A wave of color heated her face, and she dropped her spoon, embarrassed that she’d begun eating without him.

  “Lady,” he said evenly, “you give the word stubborn a whole new meaning.”

  She lowered her eyes and didn’t respond, not certain if he were talking about how hungry she’d been or something else; she feared it was the “something else,” and she just couldn’t carry on a calm, ordinary conversation about what had happened between them.

  She made an effort to call a truce between them, though without lowering her guard an inch. She couldn’t laugh with him; her nerves were stretched too tightly, her emotions were too ravaged. But she did smile and talk, and generally avoided meeting his eyes. In that manner she made it safely through the evening until it was time to go to bed and she could excuse herself.

  She was already in bed, staring at the ceiling, when she heard him call. It was like an instant replay of the night before and she froze, a film of perspiration breaking out on her body. She couldn’t go in there, not after what had happened the last time. He couldn’t have cramps in his legs, because she’d heard him come up not five minutes before. He wasn’t even in bed yet.

  She lay there telling herself fiercely that she wouldn’t go; then he called her name again and years of training rose up to do battle with her. He was her patient, and he was calling her. She could just check and make certain that he was all right, and leave again if there was nothing wrong.

  Reluctantly she climbed out of bed, this time reaching for her robe and belting it tightly around her. No more going into his room wearing only her nightgown; the thought of his hands on her breasts interfered with the rhythm of her breathing, and an odd ache began in the flesh that he had touched.

  When she opened the door to his bedroom she was surprised to see that he was already in bed. “What did you want?” she asked coolly, not leaving her position by the door.

  He sighed and sat up, stuffing his pillows behind his back. “We have to talk,” he said.

  She froze. “If you like to talk so much, maybe you should join a debating team,” she retorted.

  “I made love to you last night,” he said bluntly, going straight to the heart of the issue and watching as she flinched against the door. “You had a rough deal with your ex-husband, and I can understand that you’re wary, but last night wasn’t a total disaster for you. You kissed me, you responded to me. So why are you acting today as if I’d raped you?”

  Dione sighed, shaking her long hair back. He’d never understand something that she didn’t really understand herself; she only knew that, in her experience, caring led to pain and rejection. It wasn’t so much a physical distance she wanted from him as an emotional one, before he took everything she had and left her only a shell, empty and useless. But there was something he would understand, and at last she met his eyes.

  “What happened last night won’t happen again,” she said, her voice low and clear. “I’m a therapist, and you’re my patient. That’s the only relationship that I can allow between us.”

  “You’re closing the barn door after the horse is already out,” he said with maddening amusement.

  “Not really. You had doubts about your ability to have sex after the accident, and that was interfering with your training. Last night removed those doubts. That was the beginning and end of anything sexual between us.”

  His face darkened. “Damn it,” he growled, all amusement gone. “Are you telling me that last night was just a therapeutic roll in the hay?”

  Her lips tightened at his crudity.